Slipping On Grease
by Artful Doodler
Summary: For Rose, the school play means the chance to play Sandra Dee. It also means the chance of a snog with school hottie Oscar... So what - or who - is stopping her? Set in an alternate universe.


"Quick! You've got to come!"

"Come where?"

"Don't ask questions, just get yer arse over here!"

Carrie was jumping up and down, grinning dementedly.

"You're not gonna believe it… it's what you've been waiting for!" she squealed, cupping her hands over my eyes.

"Watch the glasses," I warned. "I've only just got these."

"There!" Carrie exclaimed triumphantly, letting her hands drop from my eyes.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" I asked, perplexed.

"Sometimes Rose, I despair of you! Look at the flippin' board!"

And then I saw it. O-MY-GOD!

My legs to Pot Noodle. I had been waiting for this opportunity all my life. Well, maybe not all my life, but it sure felt like it.

The sign said: AUDITIONS (girls only) for the forthcoming production to _Grease_. All those wishing to audition for Sandy, or any of the Pink Ladies, must attend the Montrose Assembly Hall at 4:30pm.

"You do know who's playing the part of Danny Zuko, don't you?" Carrie grinned.

"Not Oscar Cole?" I gasped, my heart beginning to beat all over the shop like one of those dodgy alarm clocks my uncle sells at the market.

"Got it in one! You could be Sandy to his Danny! It's perfect!"

She was right. It was perfect. Only it was perfectly impossible. Why? Two words. Davina Berry. Everyone knew the school pin-up was auditioning for the part of Sandy. I wasn't even going to get a look in.

"Fancy your chances then, do we?" A voice from behind us. Oh crap. It was Berry and her loyal gang of 'babes'. Gang of bitches, more like.

"Don't tell me that you're auditioning for a part in the school play?" Davina sneered.

"You can't even sing," she continued, poking me in the chest. "If _you_ get the part I'll do your homework for a month!"

"Plus, Sandra Dee was never Indian and you couldn't exactly play the part of a Pink Lady could you?" She pushed past us, laughing into the distance with her cronies.

"Don't even think about not auditioning because of that racist troll," exclaimed Carrie, angrily. "Just cos she got through two auditions for _The X Factor_, she reckons she's flippin' Katy Perry. Ignore her."

I smiled at Carrie half-heartedly. But Davina is right; I just didn't stand a chance.

I thought about nothing else in bed that night. Sod Davina Berry. I could sing. Well, Mum was always trying to get me to sing at the Church her and my Aunt Gita went to. My mind drifted to thoughts of Oscar and I could so just melt into those huge sapphire blue eyes… zzzzzzzz.

xxoOoxx

The bell rang for the end of school and Carrie came bounding over.

"So, you've been practising then?"

I spied Davina Berry giving me evil stares from across the classroom.

"Listen Carrie, just forget it. I'm not auditioning," I said as I ran out of the room, just catching the satisfaction on Davina Berry's smug mug.

I decided to take the slow walk home. It was chucking it down. Typical. Could my life get any more crap?

I couldn't resist having a sneaky peak in the Montrose Assembly Hall. Well, a girl can dream, can't she? I closed my eyes and imagined being up there on the stage, dressed in 50s clothes, wrapped in Oscar's arms and for a minutes I felt truly happy. Lost in the moment, I found myself singing 'Hopelessly Devoted to You' and dancing around on the stage. I twirled around, eyes shut, my arms clasped against my own waist as though they were Oscar's…

"Ha ha ha! Oh my God… look at her… what a prat, I think I'm going to wet myself!"

I spotted Davina Berry and one of her 'babes'. They were laughing so much that they could hardly breathe.

"I've… never seen anything so h-h-hilarious in my life," spluttered Davina, hysterical.

I ran out of the hall, tears streaking my face. This was the shame of all shame.

I would never live this one down.

I couldn't face school the next day. I told Mum that I had a tummy bug and she seemed to buy it. Stuff the part. I didn't even care about Oscar anymore.

As predicted, the jokes started as soon as I walked through the school gates next day. People were laughing at me, pointing and whispering. My life was over.

"Can I see you after class, Rose?" Miss Brahms, our drama teacher asked.

_Jeee-sus_. What now?

"I was surprised I didn't see you at the auditions," she said, straightening her specs. "I've heard you're keen on the part of Sandy."

I shuffled from foot to foot, head bowed. "Don't really want to be in the play, Miss."

"Oh, really? Someone told me that they heard you singing recently and thought you'd make the perfect Sandy."

"Look Miss. I'm not interested. I'm not really the Sandy type and besides, I don't have time with all my school work and stuff…"

"Nonsense. I think you'd make a great Sandy, and so does… well, someone else has put in a good word for you, but it's up to you at the end of the day."

It was nice of Carrie to put in a good word for me with Miss Brahms, I thought as I walked along the corridor on my way out to the exit gates. I wasn't looking where I was going and "_Doooof!_"

I'd smacked straight into something. Or someone… Oscar Cole – of all people!

I would try to leg it, but the Pot Noodle knees had returned.

"Are you OK?" he asked, seeming all concerned.

"Yeah, f-fine," I stuttered, unable to look directly into those beautiful sapphire blue gems.

"I've been looking for you."

Looking for me? Was he having a laugh or something?

"I've got something to confess," he said with a little smile. "Let's go to Montrose Hall."

I followed, unable to resist, even though I was sure this was some kind of sick joke and that any minute Davina Berry would jump out from the middle of nowhere.

"I heard you singing that time in the hall – you were amazing! I was practising when I heard you come in," Oscar explained.

I died a million embarrassing deaths. _Noooooo_ – he'd seen me!

"Listen, I know what that cow Davina Berry has been saying. She doesn't know anything, except how to wear too much lip gloss!"

I giggled.

"Was it you who put a word in for me to Miss Brahms?" I asked, in the sexist voice I could muster.

"Totally! You're perfect for the part. Actually, I think you're perfect."

He took my hand and pulled me up on to the stage. Whoa! There go those Pot Noodle legs again.

And there he is, Oscar Cole, the fit lad that everyone goes to school for, singing 'You're the One That I Want', to me!

As he twirled me around, I couldn't help but smile as I thought of all the homework I wouldn't have to do for a month.

"Shall we practise that part where we kiss at the end?" he suggested, enveloping me in those arms that I'd dreamt about for so long.

I looked up at those gorgeous sapphire gems, just inches away from mine.

I didn't need asking twice.


End file.
